Artist's commentary
[Dear Mr. C.B.] Mr. C.B.
The track was in the worst possible condition. Even so, you treaded through the mud, broke out of the pack, and took the lead when no one else could.
Not even upturned turf, fierce rain, or racers blocking the way could stop you. You simply weaved your way past each competitor, leaving them behind, one after the other.
And each time you passed another racer, your sky-blue eyes shone brilliantly, as if you yourself had become like the vast sky—soaring freely forward, always just out of reach...
"Mr. C.B. finishes in first place! Mr. C.B. takes it all here at the first race of the Triple Crown!"
In that whirlwind of rain and mud, when visibility was at its worst, you stood above everyone else.
And then like a child, you wiped the mud off your cheek with the back of your hand, before slowly curling the corners of your mouth into an easygoing smile. Turning to the crowd, you stood tall and raised your hand to the sky.
Seeing that pose, the fresh memories of my bitter defeat instantly faded away, replaced by your gallant figure etched into my mind.

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